| Subject: Chapter 244 - Part 2 (end of chapter 244) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Wednesday, July 05, 06:53:12am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark" on Monday, May 01, 06:55:47am
She could feel the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, tormented by so much just now--both the smaller, torturous details of her own life, and the depravities of the world at large. And all of it just made her fear her husband's departure that much more--seeing the fates which could so easily come upon her. A woman alone was a target, always had been; she winced, trying to hold back the tears. And she would be held up for the bullets of her enemies again very soon.
It was so difficult not to cry at this thought, this last day making her more emotional than usual--all of it working into her husband's coming, unwilling desertion. But last night had also brought out another, more specific, terror--a far more personal one; her heart thumped, as it pounded at her again. Once her beloved protector was gone, how would she ever be able to save their child?
It was this fear which worked her the most just now, the soul-damning sight in the alley last night only bringing it into much starker focus. Aside from what Hollywood, had it even bothered to notice, would simply see as the culling of another unneeded woman from the city, the display had been a message, delivered almost directly to her. If the murder of a fully-grown, absolutely-tangible woman could be covered over as though she had never lived at all, the disposal of an as-yet-unborn child would be nothing; the tears escaped, her fingers rubbing more certainly, almost trying to touch her son. And, without her solid and ever-vigilant protector there to look after her, she alone had nothing with which to fight.
It was this fear which worked her more than most, the terror of it lingering. She wasn't even certain which would be the worst part of such a situation, were it to happen, so many haunting her now. Would it be the loss of her only real link to her husband? The destruction of a desperately-wanted part of the future, one she held so dear? Perhaps. But maybe it was really the cruel guilt which would come down on her, knowing that she had been incapable of protecting her husband's child. She wasn't certain. But she more than suspected that it was this latter one which would assuredly drive her mad.
She had to close her eyes, trying to hold herself together, the terrors which Michael's departure brought upon her far too intense. As much as she wanted, desperately wanted, to be strong and brave, she felt just the opposite, the breath she took deep. And nothing which she could do seemed likely to help her anymore.
She was just trying to hold herself together, fighting off the many effects of her fears, when there was a knock, the door opening a second later; her heart jumped, praying it was her husband--his presence the sense of sanity she so desperately needed--before it fell completely, continuing on into the abyss. She tried to smile--unable to fight the reaction. While Terry's presence was usually a welcome one, there was really only one person she wanted to see just now.
Her visitor tried to reflect the look, seeing the state of her ally--wishing she could give her more. "Michael's coming. He just has a few things to wrap up with Helmut," she assured her, knowing whom the woman really wanted near her. "I just came up to see how you were doing."
The reasons why she had been chosen--or rather, had designated herself--for such a duty went untold, but Nikita did her best to smile, forcing herself upright on the bed. "I'm . . ." She looked into the woman's knowing eyes. "Here," she finished at last--seeing that there was no reason to lie. Unlike when she was at the studio, there was nothing but allies around her now.
Her visitor nodded, pleased to be included in such a category, her thoughts having turned to this poor woman more than once, since she had heard about the terrible events of last night--worried for her pregnancy. No one knew how an untested woman would fare at such a time. Some were like lionesses--strong and sturdy, capable of going through almost anything and still giving life without fear. Others crumpled at the first roadblock, the new life fading from them as though it had been a dream all along. Appearances, will, even unsightly and visible muscles, meant nothing. The only way to know which category you fell into was to find yourself in the situation.
Terry had seen this more than once, her time in Hollywood, as well as before it, teaching her many things. Among them was the fact that not every pregnancy led to birth--and that was leaving aside the whole question of those who made a conscious choice to stop it along the way.
She sat down on the bed next to the actress, hoping to be some comfort, as they waited for the woman's husband--but knowing that such aid wasn't very likely. For all that Terry herself had gone through in her life--and that had been quite considerable, much of it situations Nikita would never have to imagine or endure--she had yet to be purposely and unwillingly separated from anyone she cared for by any means except death. In many ways, Kate was the first person she had truly been in love with, and she was fortunate enough to still be with her; no one, besides the general public they had fortunately kept well at bay, might even wish to see them apart. Her hand covered Nikita's, her eyes strong and comforting. To think of anyone being torn from the one person they loved--and, in this case, the one who protected them, especially at such a delicate time--seemed unbearable. Her fingers squeezed warmly. She could only hope that the poor woman would be able to bear up.
Nikita nodded, looking into her visitor's eyes--trying not to cry at all the freely-given sympathy she saw there. While there was little either of them could actually say to each other--their friendship still fairly vestigial, at best--the woman's honest concern was appreciated, deeply. Besides, sometimes in silence the best comfort was given. She could only thank the woman for her sympathy just now.
It was this strong, tender look which Michael broke into a moment later, his heart squeezing at the sight. More than anything, it made him grateful. Even if there were little he himself could do but survive and return, it was good to know that there would be friends around to comfort the one he loved.
Terry looked back to the actor a moment later, her gaze with the woman broken as soon as he had entered the room--the air between the couple as electric as always, even when both of them were suffering. She smiled at him briefly, letting his wife's hand go--knowing when she wasn't needed. Still, when she was just about to reach the door, she was called back on her name. "Terry." But she never would have imagined where her life would go next.
It took a lot for Nikita to call her, to even remember her in her desperate gratitude at seeing her husband again--but she had finally remembered a promise she had made. As the woman returned to her curiously, the actress dove through the meager contents of her purse, surprised to find that it was the same one she had had on the *Golden State Express*; she hadn't exactly been thinking that deeply since last night. Still, she came up with the note at last, saying, "I was given this on the train last week to give to you. I think it's a fan letter." When the woman looked curious, reaching toward it, Nikita shrugged sheepishly. "I'm afraid I'd forgotten about it till now."
That was understandable, Terry surprised that the woman had ever remembered it--given the current state of her life. Still, it didn't surprise her that Nikita would fulfill such a duty, undoubtedly having promised its sender that it would be delivered; she smiled, as she took hold of it, only mildly curious. "Who gave it to you?" If it were some florid-faced white man, she would probably dump it later without opening it. Although her lack of presence on the screen would probably cause them to forget her, there was no reason to open any hate mail she might still be getting from the Ku Klux Klan.
The actress's smile mirrored her polite one, unaware of her visitor's thoughts. She wasn't certain this much detail was really necessary but was giving what she remembered--knowing the woman must be curious. "A porter, named Joseph." When she saw Terry's hand shake suddenly, her eyes widening--staring at the letter's deliverer--Nikita's heart fell. "Should I not have . . .?"
"No," she was broken off, Terry smiling suddenly, far too pleasantly. It was a studio look, not a real one--nearly making the actress ask again whether she had done the wrong thing. But the note's recipient was already halfway across the room, barely noticed the couple. "Thank you."
This was all the pair behind her were left with, as she made her distracted departure--but they both just shook their heads. Their own lives were filled with enough terrors and torments to keep them quite busy. They didn't need to go out of their way to incorporate anyone else's now.
It was with this silent decision that Michael came to her, sitting down to hold her for a moment in silence before helping her up. They had done their duties for the day, had made what bargains they could; the time for being social was past. It was now finally time they went home.
[End of Part 244]
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